


Truth Part 3

by The_Word_Witch



Series: Truth [3]
Category: Bucky Barnes - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), the winter soldier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers AU, Avengers Tower, Bucky Barnes - Freeform, Bucky Feels, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Drunk Bucky Barnes, Drunk Sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, James "bucky" Barnes smut, Original Character(s), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Smut, The Winter Soldier - Freeform, Touch-Starved, bucky smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 16:15:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17083586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Word_Witch/pseuds/The_Word_Witch
Summary: Request:What’s up sug! sorry you’re struggling right now but I’ve come to help you If you could bring this to light for me I’d absolutely love for YOU TO DO JT So basically Bucky X Enhanced reader who are fuckin enemies. Hate each other to every last fiber of their beings bc Bucky is rude and she calls him out on it. AnywHs, they get drunk, truth or dare (go crZy baby) and LOTS LF dirty talk if u wanna do smut but if u don’t then buck taking care of her while she’s drunk cause she admitted her feelingsPairing: Bucky X Reader (Enhanced)Summary: Since The Avengers gave you a home the only blight has been Bucky Barnes, a ghost from your past that you can’t seem to shake. It makes you hate him. The feeling, it seems, is mutual. But… a simple game reveals that maybe things aren’t quite so simple. (Post Winter Soldier AU)





	Truth Part 3

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Smut (like a lot… so… just turn around now if you’re not of age or aren’t into that).
> 
> A/N: Please be gentle with me my darling readers and pumpkins. I want to be very confident about this whole smut writing thing but I’m new to it and just yeah, I hope you like it lol!
> 
> That being said my fucking GAAAAD it was fun to write. But, honestly, the morning after… that is my fave part. 
> 
> I’m really excited to see what you all think of this one. This baby is just running away with me so if you like these two there’s a lot more coming.

_What. Are. You. Doing. Y/N?!_ Sober you yells. Fuck sober you.

You pull on his hand to tug him onto the couch, he complies and sits on the other side, his back against the armrest. He reaches for your left hand with his right and you give it to him. For a minute you just sit there, hands intertwined, each with a leg on the couch tucked under you and one on the ground.

For a moment you wonder if you still remember how to even do this when it’s not forced, or a tactic. Memories flit through your mind of the less than savory encounters you had throughout your years with Hydra, sex was a tool after all. You wonder if he was thinking the same.

It’s not something you allow to linger for long. Drunk you was at the wheel. _She_ remembered something even if it wasn’t manifesting in the forefront of your mind.

Tucking your legs under you, resting on your knees, you lean toward him, using your hands as leverage. He looks up at you and unfolds his leg, knee up leaning it against the back of the loveseat so you can get closer.

Letting go of your hands he reaches for your face, holding it, his thumbs trace your lips and your eyes flutter closed. After a moment you open them and he looks surprised.

“Either I’m _that_ drunk,” a metal finger traces your brow bone, “or your eyes are actually sparkling.”

You can’t help but smile, “They do that.”

“Anything else, sparkle?”

“You’ll have to find that out for yourself,” a coy smile rising to your lips.

Bucky wastes no time. He pulls your face to him causing you to lose your precarious balance sending your torso crashing into him. You press your palms against his chest to avoid slamming your faces together and through a laugh, you kiss. Now he tastes like whiskey and cigarettes, a combo that lights something in you on fire.

Your lips tingle and a low sound comes from his chest telling you he feels it too. His hands slide down your back and grab your ass, pressing you even closer. Reaching to the back of his head you tug the tie out so his thick dark hair tumbles free, it smells like tea tree shampoo, and you tangle your fingers in it pulling his head back to look up at you.

He smiles and you just stare at him for a second before you hook your fingers in his already torn tee. Effortlessly you rip the garment from neck to waist and it hangs open. A little laugh escapes him.

“Show off,” he says slipping it off revealing his barrel chest dusted with scars, dark hair, and cords of muscle. Sober and drunk you both swallow hard because… fuck.

“Had to finish the job,” you shrug, he smiles. You sit back on your heels and lay your hands on his abdomen, tracing the lines of his abs. They wander up to his pecs and you hesitate only a second before touching the scars that joined his left arm.

They were so thick, you couldn’t imagine what that was like, and there were five very specific scars leading down his chest… as your fingers touch them you realize what they are. Claw marks… from… him… _damn them_.

As your hands feel the topography of him his breathing becomes hard. You look up and his eyes are clenched shut. Your wandering fingers pause and they open, blue-grey pools, so unsure.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” he whispers and covers your right hand with his left, pressing it to the juncture of metal and man. “Please,” his voice cracks a little, “please don’t.”

A realization hits you then. Something that hadn’t fully sunk in until just now. You want this, he wants this. Beyond that you both _need_ this. You both need to be touched like this so badly that you had forgotten just how much you ached for it.

There wasn’t any point in acknowledging the void the lack of human connection left in you. Being with you wasn’t safe… for anyone else. He could be with you though, that’s why inhibitions down you were so quick to go from your usual disdain to desire. If anyone would come out of this unscathed it would be Bucky.

His hand leaves yours and he grasps the hem of your own tee. Unlike you he doesn’t rip it, just pulls it up and you finish the task. When his hands touch your abdomen, tenderly if not awkwardly as you had done him you let out a breath. The feeling so… foreign in the best way. Hooking his metal index finger behind the clasps on your sports bra he yanks straight down snapping them, a smirk on his face.

You can’t help but giggle a bit at that. He leans forward, closing the distance made by your thighs, and his hands slide under the bra pushing it off your shoulders. This touch makes you gasp just a little. He leans back against the arm, looking at you.

Bringing his leg up he shifts to a normal seated position and looks at you reaching with his right. “Come here,” he says, voice low. You scoot a bit on your knees then lift your leg so you’re straddling his thick thighs.

He grabs your hips and pulls them forward so you can feel the press of him through the denim, his hands run up your back and push you into him. You let him, wrapping your arms around his neck, reveling in the feeling of him against you.

This kiss is slow. His lips press to yours, your tongue flicks at his bottom lip, taking the invitation his mouth opens to you. As you had him, he runs a hand up your back and pulls out your hair tie. Your long curls tumble down and he tangles his fingers in them holding the back of your head, caressing your scalp sending shivers down your spine. You nip at his bottom lip and he groans, hips thrusting up at you, an old forgotten ache rises. Fuck you want him.

His hands grab your ass and suddenly he stands. You wrap your legs tight around his waist, bracing yourself against his shoulders.

Pulling away from the kiss he says, breath heavy, “Not here.” You nod and kiss his neck, loving the sounds he makes, as he heads out of the range and steps into the elevator. “My place,” he manages to say before his breath catches as you suck at his earlobe. Jarvis, ever intuitive, says nothing and just lifts you off.

You’re making out as the elevator doors slide open and the door to Bucky’s tower apartment swings in, ah Jarvis. Manhattan glitters through the floor to ceiling windows and only a couple of lamps are on leaving the room comfortably dim. It smells like him here, spicy and warm with notes of sandalwood and tee tree. It’s a good smell you think. He doesn’t put you down as you expect. Instead, he just turns and carries you to his room. 

He lets you down onto the bed and you lean up on your elbows staring up at him. For a second you just take the other in. His chest is heaving a bit, hunger etched in every line of his face. Without taking his eyes off you his right-hand wanders to his belt and unbuckles it, undoing the button of his jeans, then the soft rasp of his zipper. 

Are you breathing? You think you may have forgotten, distracted as you were, but when his hand stops the thought occurs that you should take one. 

Filling your lungs you scoot forward, legs dangling over the edge of the bed, you run your hands down his sides to his waistband. As you work his jeans over his hips he gently runs metal fingers down your cheek to your lips, his thumb tracing the shape. 

You place a kiss on his right hip bone and run the tip of your tongue down the v of his abdomen stopping just short and going to the other side to do the same. A shudder and soft sound comes from him, you feel him move just under your face and smirk. 

“Tease,” he whispers as you look up to meet his eyes. He had no idea. 

Your nails run the same path your tongue had and just before touching him change course to continue down his inner thighs. His jaw tightens, no doubt trying to maintain some kind of control. 

Opening your mouth a touch you wet your index and middle fingers, even slipping them in a bit for good measure. When you run them, warm and moist up the underside of his cock, tracing the base of the head lightly with your middle finger, his breath becomes ragged and there’s the soft sounds of metal gears. 

“Just enjoying myself,” you say smiling up at him. 

With that you slowly take his head in your mouth, flicking your tongue from the base to the tip. The ragged sound that escapes him sends tingles through your whole body. His right-hand tangles in the hair at the back of your head but doesn’t force you down on to him, just sits there silently begging for more. You decide to give him what he wants, because fuck if you don’t want it too, want to hear the sounds he’ll make, taste him, feel him. You take all of him into your mouth, wrapping your right index, middle, and thumb around the base of his cock. 

Something like, “Oh,” comes from him as you begin to work him, steadily, just a little suction. He growls a bit as he hits the back of the throat. Your left hand resting on his muscular thigh feels him tense after a few minutes. 

“Stop,” he pants, though he still thrusts at you. You feel something like a smile work the muscles in your face despite the mouthful. His fingers tighten in your hair and pull your head back, the pull of his fingers more tantalizing than painful. “Woman, if you don’t stop this is going to be over much faster than either of us want.” 

He runs his metal index finger under your bottom lip to remove some lingering moisture. When it rubs on the soft skin of your lips you’re surprised at how smooth it feels. Stepping back he kicks off his boots and slips out of his jeans leaving him deliciously bare. 

You swallow hard. Even in the dim light, he’s immaculate. All dark hair, rippling muscles, and that fucking cock. _Christ_. You swallow hard keeping the small sound of pleasure that threatened to slip out contained. He seems to notice your admiration anyway and slowly moves back toward the bed. 

Tilting your chin up to look at him, he smiles broadly before kissing you deep. He pushes you back against the bed and runs his hands down your torso causing you to shudder. Grasping your ample hips he holds them as he takes your nipple in his mouth. 

This time you can’t swallow the sound. A small gasping moan bursts from you and your hips press against his hold. His eyes look up at you glinting before moving to the other eliciting much the same reaction from you. Kissing a trail down your body he stands and slips your feet free of your battered Converse and unbuttons your jeans. In one swift tug, they’re gone. 

Bucky licks his bottom lip and smirks hands once again grabbing your hips he pulls you effortlessly to the edge of the bed as he kneels on the ground. His stubble scratches and tickles at your inner thighs and you sigh feeling goosebumps rise all over your body. But when he lowers his mouth to you, that’s electric. 

As he sucks at your clit you cry out, loudly, so fucking thankful that these apartments are soundproof. Pleasure already curls tight in your belly begging to be set free. It had been far too long since someone had touched you like this. His tongue pulses against you and his right hand comes around sliding two fingers into you, ever so subtly stretching you open. 

“Fuck!” Your back arches and you feel the tingles of energy snaking just under your skin. _Don’t light anything on fire, Y/N,_ sober you whispers from the depths of your consciousness. He lifts his head and replaces the maddening feeling of his mouth with the gentle pressure of his thumb, rubbing around your clit. Panting you look at him, a coy smile on his face.

“I want you to come for me, Y/N,” he says, voice low and rumbling. This sets you alight, and your brows crease with worry, genuinely concerned about causing damage. 

He notices, “Don’t worry about it. Stark can buy me a new comforter if need be. I wanna see you come.” He pauses, “Do you want to?” He asks and begins to lower back down. 

“Yes,” you pant, “please, please.” You grab a hank of his hair as he takes you back into his mouth. Your hips grind, lifting of their own accord, and his fingers pump harder into you. 

“Bucky, fuck, Bucky!” The orgasm tears through you. So different from your solo endeavors of late. This is white hot pleasure flooding your system as he keeps working you through it. You forgot it could feel this way. Your grip on him loosens and he stands from between your trembling thighs. 

There’s a fascinated look on his face, “Beautiful.” You hold your arm up and look at the pinpoints of light winking in and out on your skin, barely visible tendrils of energy connecting the points. Honestly, you always thought it was garish, something that marked you as a freak. But… nothing was on fire and maybe it was beautiful. 

His right hand is holding onto his cock, slowly stroking it, looking down at you. You scoot back to be fully on the bed, leaning up. 

Keeping your eyes on his you open your legs, “You could take care of that yourself I guess.” You smirk, hand wandering between your legs, “But I think I have a much better idea.”

Lowering himself over you he rests on his forearms peering into your eyes, suddenly serious, “Are you sure?”

You reach up and bring his face to yours, crushing a kiss onto his lips, and growl out, “I want you to fuck me, Bucky Barnes, until I don’t remember who either of us are.”

He smolders for just a second, your words having the desired effect, and he thunders into you. You can’t help but cry out as he fills you, the ache so sweet, pressing yourself closer to him. 

“Fuck,” he groans and kisses you, his tongue filling your mouth. Wrapping your legs around his hips you urge him faster. Sitting up he pulls your legs away spreading them wide. When he slams into you it’s almost too much. Even so, you press back against him, hard, wanting all of him. 

Releasing your left leg his right-hand lowers to you. When his thumb strokes your clit you almost lose it. Your hands are balled into fists, holding onto the duvet for dear life. His pace quickens, thumb stroking you, when you look at him the expression of lust and satisfaction there is enough to tip you over the edge. He fucks you through it, making the aftershocks shake you almost as much as the orgasm itself had. 

He leans back down, pace maddeningly slow, and presses a kiss just under your ear. When he lifts his mouth to your ear you gasp a little, the feeling of his breath and stubble making you shiver. 

“How about you turn over for me, doll?” He growls into your ear. All you can manage is a nod, language a forgotten skill. 

As you go to turn once he’s pulled out, he grabs you lifting and flipping you as if you weigh nothing. A laugh tumbles from you and quickly turns into sounds of pleasure as he kisses the space between your shoulder blades. Your ass lifts and you can feel him pressed against your lower back. 

A sound of pleasure rumbles in his chest as he feels you squirm. Lifting off you his hands grab your ass before slapping both cheeks just enough to smart. You groan in pleasure and raise up on your knees. 

“Mmm,” he hums caressing you. Without warning, he plunges into you once more. He fucks you until all you can think about is this, the feeling of him, the waves of pleasure. His hands reach around the front of you and lift you up so your back is pressed against his chest, his fingers catching and toying with your nipples. 

“Kiss me,” he whispers. You turn and find his lips, greedily. His left-hand wraps gently around your throat, not threatening and you stay like that for a moment, not moving just connected, kissing ferociously. 

He releases you and pushes you gently back down. Moving from behind you he coaxes you to your back once more. His face hovering above you he runs his hands up your arms and pins them above your head. This time he’s slow, gently entering you so you can feel every inch of him bit by bit.

“B… Bucky,” you softly moan. This makes a smile rise and his pace quicken just a touch. You meet his rhythm effortlessly in sync. When you push against his hands he presses them harder into the bed and you, surprisingly, love this feeling of giving control over to him. 

“Y/N,” he grumbles before catching your mouth with his. He releases your arms and braces his forearms on either side of your head. You wrap your arms under his feeling the muscles of his back work as he fucks you slow, steady, deep. 

Your back arches pressing against him, he quickens, you’re almost there again, “Please Buck,” his brows crease. 

“Now,” he groans. Both of your bodies shudder in unison, and you hold on tight to him. He kisses you hard, pressing your head into the bed, body shaking. 

When he stops and lifts his head his eyes are gleaming, much as you knew yours were, the intensity having brought tears to you both. You cup his face in your hands and just stare at him before kissing him again. 

You spend a few minutes intertwined like that. Both shaking and just barely keeping it together. It feels like you’re the only two creatures in the world right now like there was never some dark past, just this. 

He pulls away from another barrage of kisses and his thumbs stroke your forehead, “Thank you.” His voice is barely audible. 

“Ditto,” you manage to eke out. This earns you a crooked smile and he reluctantly rolls off of you. 

In his bathroom you don’t even turn the light on for a moment, just looking at the constellation of your skin in the mirror, sparkling and like a starry sky. He was right, it was beautiful. When you emerge he’s pulled the blankets down on his bed and leaned against the headboard still nude. 

Suddenly you feel awkward, exposed despite what just went down. What now? His eyes slowly rise to meet your own and he smiles so big his nose crinkles. _Cute._  

“Would you like a shirt?” All you manage is a shrug, standing frozen in the middle of his room. His expression softens and he extends his right hand, “Come here, doll.” 

Was this what you wanted? Did you want to stay? Even sober you, slowly more and more in control of the situation, is on the same page. You absolutely _did_ want to stay. 

Without a word, you crawl into the bed and Bucky wraps you in his arms, your head comfortably resting on his chest. 

“Could… Could I maybe stay here? Just for tonight?” You ask, voice so unsure. 

He tilts your head to look at him. “I wouldn’t have it another way darling.” He kisses you and you both slide down into the bed. A dreamless, contented sleep finding its way to the both of you quickly. 

There’s a loud banging at the door. _Who the fuck?!_ You roll over, committed to ignoring whoever thought you were going to get out of your bed for anything next to a national crisis. 

“Buck!” You hear Steve bellow over the door com. Suddenly you are _very_ awake. “Open the fucking door, man!” Shooting up you remember, last night, you’re in Bucky’s apartment and he’s dead asleep next to you, one ass cheek poking out from under the sheet. Damn, it was a _great_ ass. 

 _Fuck. Situation at hand. Focus._  

“James fucking Barnes! I am going to tear this door down if you don’t open it!” Jarvis is being smugly silent you note. _Traitor._

You pick up the pillow you slept on and smack Bucky with it, “Hey!”

Groaning he rolls over, looking up at you, voice groggy, “What?” 

“I. Am. Not. Kidding. Bucky.” Steve yells.

“Fuck!” Bucky shoots up. 

“Yeah, _fuck_.” You quip. He’s rummaging for underwear fumbling to get them on. It takes effort to suppress a laugh. 

“You want him to know your here?” He hisses, a smirk on his lips despite the tone. 

“Not particularly.”

“Then hush,” he smiles and leans into the bed kissing you before bolting out of the room, closing the door behind him. 

You sit stunned for a second, pulling the sheet over your chest. What. Was. Happening. 

He just kissed you. Sober you fully in control. And you didn’t hit him, zap him, or think of any way to maim him at all. This was fully Stark’s fault you decide. Him and his fucking special sauce. _Ass._  

Grabbing a pillow you hold it to your chest, trying not to focus on the conversation now taking place in the living room. It smells like him, your eyes close as you breathe deep. _Nope._ You pull yourself together and fling the offending object away from you. 

Bucky ( _Barnes_ the stubborn part of your brain wants to still call him), and you couldn’t do this. It would be too much. Too much trauma between you. No. Unacceptable. Groaning you fall forward and face plant on the duvet, ass in the air. But… the sex was fucking phenomenal. 

You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts you don’t hear Steve leave. When the door opens Bucky sees you, face in the bed, ass in the air and laughs. 

“Is this an open invitation or…?”

“You wish,” you say, sitting back into a normal position. He shrugs and smirks in response. Really what _you_ wished was that you could say you’d deny him another round. Because… yeah, even sober you couldn’t turn it down. “Disaster averted?” You ask as he sits on the bed next to you, running his hands through his hair. 

“Disaster’s a little harsh don’t you think?”

Playfully you bat at his right arm. “You know what I mean.”

He flashes you a smile, “Yes, disaster was averted. You can rest easy, our cover of being bitter enemies is not yet blown.” You had rested easy, very easy, after last night you think. 

You nod, “Jesus I need a shower.” You slide off the bed next to him and pick your discarded jeans up off the floor, slipping into them. His eyes burn into you as you do so. When you look back his expression is soft and… appreciative. _Nope_ , you tell yourself again despite the tightening in your belly. 

Your shirt… Fuck… your shirt _and_ bra were still in the range. “Can I take you up on that shirt offer?” Mentally you plan to go there before your own apartment, hoping no one has felt the need to shoot anything yet today. 

“Sure,” he says going to his dresser. Was that disappointment on his face? “Here,” he tosses a black v-neck to you. It’s a bit oversized and smells like him. _Ugh_. 

The two of you stand awkwardly looking but not looking at the other. Finally, you break the silence. 

“Thanks… for… uh… letting me stay,” you say looking up at him as you pull on a sneaker. 

A half smile rises to his face and he runs his left hand through his hair, “I… I’m glad that… you wanted to…”

Suddenly, a laugh bubbles out of you, you can’t help it. It’s one of those laughs that overtakes you and you just can’t stop. You collapse onto the edge of the bed and he looks at you confused before he can’t help but join in. After a few minutes, you wipe at the tears in your eyes. It had been a long time since you laughed like that… years… decades maybe. 

“What are we? A couple of fucking teenagers? Christ.” You pant out, giggles still coming. He’s closer to you now, beaming. “I feel like I’m about to sneak out the window and hope my mom doesn’t catch me coming home.” 

He extends his right hand, “Oh god, please don’t tell me you’re about to shake my hand and say it was a pleasure or some shit.” A snorting laugh bursts from him and he shakes his head, you take his hand and he pulls you up. 

Your bodies are close though not touching and he’s looking down at you. Unthinking you raise up on your toes and kiss him, not hard or lustful just soft. He cups your face in his hands holding you there. Both of you look into the eyes of the other not knowing at all what to say. 

You sigh, “I’ve got to go.”

“Ok,” he kisses you once more and releases you. You nod and head for the front door. When your hand is on the knob you pause, hearing movement behind you. His hands are on your waist spinning you around. Pinning you to the door he kisses you, hard, passionately. You oblige, each of you wanting one last taste of this, regardless of if it was a good idea or not.

He pulls away, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead. “I’m going to want my shirt back,” he says smirking. 

“We’ll see, Barnes,” his last name said with a wink, “We’ll see.” Quickly pecking his cheek you push him away and head out the door. 


End file.
